blind clinging hopes of affection; such unseen elements Mr Tryan called the 
   Divine Will, and filled up the margin of ignorance which surrounds all our 
   knowledge with the feelings of trust and resignation. Perhaps the profoundest 
   philosophy could hardly fill it up better.
   His mind was occupied in this way as he was absently taking off his gown, when 
   Mr Landor startled him by entering the vestry and asking abruptly,
   "Have you heard the news about Dempster?"
   "No," said Mr Tryan, anxiously; "what is it?"
   "He has been thrown out of his gig in the Bridge Way, and he was taken up for 
   dead. They were carrying him home as we were coming to church, and I stayed 
   behind to see what I could do. I went in to speak to Mrs Dempster, and prepare 
   her a little, but she was not at home. Dempster is not dead, however; he was 
   stunned with the fall. Pilgrim came in a few minutes, and he says the right leg 
   is broken in two places. It's likely to be a terrible case, with his state of 
   body. It seems he was more drunk than usual, and they say he came along the 
   Bridge Way flogging his horse like a madman, till at last it gave a sudden 
   wheel, and he was pitched out. The servants said they didn't know where Mrs 
   Dempster was: she had been away from home since yesterday morning; but Mrs 
   Raynor knew."
   "I know where she is," said Mr Tryan; "but I think it will be better for her not 
   to be told of this just yet."
   "Ah, that was what Pilgrim said, and so I didn't go round to Mrs Raynor's. He 
   said it would be all the better if Mrs Dempster could be kept out of the house 
   for the present. Do you know if anything new has happened between Dempster and 
   his wife lately? I was surprised to hear of her being at Paddiford church this 
   morning."
   "Yes, something has happened; but I believe she is anxious that the particulars 
   of his behaviour towards her should not be known. She is at Mrs Pettifer's?there 
   is no reason for concealing that, since what has happened to her husband; and 
   yesterday, when she was in very deep trouble, she sent for me. I was very 
   thankful she did so: I believe a great change of feeling has begun in her. But 
   she is at present in that excitable state of mind?she has been shaken by so many 
   painful emotions during the last two days, that I think it would be better, for 
   this evening at least, to guard her from a new shock, if possible. But I am 
   going now to call upon her, and I shall see how she is."
   "Mr Tryan," said Mr Jerome, who had entered during the dialogue, and had been 
   standing by listening with a distressed face, "I shall take it as a favour if 
   you'll let me know if iver there's anything I can do for Mrs Dempster. Eh, dear, 
   what a world this is! I think I see 'em fifteen 'ear ago ?as happy a young 
   couple as iver was; and now, what it's all come to! I was in a hurry, like, to 
   punish Dempster for pessecutin', but there was a stronger hand at work nor 
   mine."
   "Yes, Mr Jerome; but don't let us rejoice in punishment, even when the hand of 
   God alone inflicts it. The best of us are but poor wretches just saved from 
   shipwreck: can we feel anything but awe and pity when we see a fellow-passenger 
   swallowed by the waves?"
   "Right, right, Mr Tryan. I'm over hot an' hasty, that I am. But I beg on you to 
   tell Mrs Dempster?I mean, in course, when you've an opportunity?tell her she's a 
   friend at the White House as she may send for any hour o' the day."
   "Yes; I shall have an opportunity, I dare say, and I will remember your wish. I 
   think," continued Mr Tryan, turning to Mr Landor, "I had better see Mr Pilgrim 
   on my way, and learn what is exactly the state of things by this time. What do 
   you think?"
   "By all means: if Mrs Dempster is to know, there's no one can break the news to 
   her so well as you. I'll walk with you to Dempster's door. I dare say Pilgrim is 
   there still. Come, Mr Jerome, you've got to go our way too, to fetch your 
   horse."
   Mr Pilgrim was in the passage giving some directions to his assistant, when, to 
   his surprise, he saw Mr Tryan enter. They shook hands; for Mr Pilgrim, never 
   having joined the party of the Anti-Tryanites, had no ground for resisting the 
   growing conviction, that the Evangelical curate was really a good fellow, though 
   he was a fool for not taking better care of himself.
   "Why, I didn't expect to see you in your old enemy's quarters," he said to Mr 
   Tryan. "However, it will be a good while before poor Dempster shows any fight 
   again."
   "I came on Mrs Dempster's account," said Mr Tryan. "She is staying at Mrs 
   Pettifer's; she has had a great shock from some severe domestic trouble lately, 
   and I think it will be wise to defer telling her of this dreadful event for a 
   short time."
   "Why, what has been up, eh?" said Mr Pilgrim, whose curiosity was at once 
   awakened. "She used to be no friend of yours. Has there been some split between 
   them? It's a new thing for her to turn round on him."
   "O, merely an exaggeration of scenes that must often have happened before. But 
   the question now is, whether you think there is any immediate danger of her 
   husband's death; for in that case I think, from what I have observed of her 
   feelings, she would be pained afterwards to have been kept in ignorance."
   "Well, there's no telling in these cases, you know. I don't apprehend speedy 
   death, and it is not absolutely impossible that we may bring him round again. At 
   present he's in a state of apoplectic stupor; but if that subsides, delirium is 
   almost sure to supervene, and we shall have some painful scenes. It's one of 
   those complicated cases in which the delirium is likely to be of the worst 
   kind?meningitis and delirium tremens together ?and we may have a good deal of 
   trouble with him. If Mrs Dempster were told, I should say it would be desirable 
   to persuade her to remain out of the house at present. She could do no good, you 
   know. I've got nurses."
   "Thank you," said Mr Tryan. "That is what I wanted to know. Good-by."
   When Mrs Pettifer opened the door for Mr Tryan, he told her in few words what 
   had happened, and begged her to take an opportunity of letting Mrs Raynor know, 
   that they might, if possible, concur in preventing a premature or sudden 
   disclosure of the event to Janet.
   "Poor thing!" said Mrs Pettifer. "She's not fit to hear any bad news; she's very 
   low this evening?worn out with feeling; and she's not had anything to keep her 
   up, as she's been used to. She seems frightened at the thought of being tempted 
   to take it."
   "Thank God for it; that fear is her greatest security."
   When Mr Tryan entered the parlour this time, Janet was again awaiting him 
   eagerly, and her pale sad face was lighted up with a smile as she rose to meet 
   him. But the next moment she said, with a look of anxiety,
   "How very ill and tired you look! You have been working so hard all day, and yet 
   you are come to talk to me. O, you are wearing yourself out. I must go and ask 
   Mrs Pettifer to come and make you have some supper. But this is my mother; you 
   have not seen her before, I think."
   While Mr Tryan was speaking to Mrs Raynor, 
					     					 			 Janet hurried out, and he, seeing 
   that this goodnatured thoughtfulness on his behalf would help to counteract her 
   depression, was not inclined to oppose her wish, but accepted the supper Mrs 
   Pettifer offered him, quietly talking the while about a clothing club he was 
   going to establish in Paddiford, and the want of provident habits among the 
   poor.
   Presently, however, Mrs Raynor said she must go home for an hour, to see how her 
   little maiden was going on, and Mrs Pettifer left the room with her to take the 
   opportunity of telling her what had happened to Dempster. When Janet was left 
   alone with Mr Tryan, she said,
   "I feel so uncertain what to do about my husband. I am so weak?my feelings 
   change so from hour to hour. This morning, when I felt so hopeful and happy, I 
   thought I should like to go back to him, and try to make up for what has been 
   wrong in me. I thought, now God would help me, and I should have you to teach 
   and advise me, and I could bear the troubles that would come. But since then?all 
   this afternoon and evening?I have had the same feelings I used to have, the same 
   dread of his anger and cruelty, and it seems to me as if I should never be able 
   to bear it without falling into the same sins, and doing just what I did before. 
   Yet, if it were settled that I should live apart from him, I know it would 
   always be a load on my mind that I had shut myself out from going back to him. 
   It seems a dreadful thing in life, when any one has been so near to one as a 
   husband for fifteen years, to part and be nothing to each other any more. Surely 
   that is a very strong tie, and I feel as if my duty can never lie quite away 
   from it. It is very difficult to know what to do: what ought I to do?"
   "I think it will be well not to take any decisive step yet. Wait until your mind 
   is calmer. You might remain with your mother for a little while; I think you 
   have no real ground for fearing any annoyance from your husband at present; he 
   has put himself too much in the wrong; he will very likely leave you unmolested 
   for some time. Dismiss this difficult question from your mind just now, if you 
   can. Every new day may bring you new grounds for decision, and what is most 
   needful for your health of mind is repose from that haunting anxiety about the 
   future which has been preying on you. Cast yourself on God, and trust that He 
   will direct you; He will make your duty clear to you, if you wait submissively 
   on Him."
   "Yes; I will wait a little, as you tell me. I will go to my mother's to-morrow, 
   and pray to be guided rightly. You will pray for me, too."
   CHAPTER XXIII. 
   The next morning Janet was so much calmer, and at breakfast spoke so decidedly 
   of going to her mother's, that Mrs Pettifer and Mrs Raynor agreed it would be 
   wise to let her know by degrees what had befallen her husband, since as soon as 
   she went out there would be danger of her meeting some one who would betray the 
   fact. But Mrs Raynor thought it would be well first to call at Dempster's, and 
   ascertain how he was: so she said to Janet,
   "My dear, I'll go home first, and see to things, and get your room ready. You 
   needn't come yet, you know. I shall be back again in an hour or so, and we can 
   go together."
   "O no," said Mrs Pettifer. "Stay with me till evening. I shall be lost without 
   you. You needn't go till quite evening."
   Janet had dipped into the Life of Henry Martyn, which Mrs Pettifer had from the 
   Paddiford Lending Library, and her interest was so arrested by that pathetic 
   missionary story, that she readily acquiesced in both propositions, and Mrs 
   Raynor set out.
   She had been gone more than an hour, and it was nearly twelve o'clock, when 
   Janet put down her book; and after sitting meditatively for some minutes with 
   her eyes unconsciously fixed on the opposite wall, she rose, went to her 
   bedroom, and, hastily putting on her bonnet and shawl, came down to Mrs 
   Pettifer, who was busy in the kitchen.
   "Mrs Pettifer," she said, "tell mother, when she comes back, I'm gone to see 
   what is become of those poor Lakins in Butcher Lane. I know they're half 
   starving, and I've neglected them so, lately. And then, I think, I'll go on to 
   Mrs Crewe. I want to see the dear little woman, and tell her myself about my 
   going to hear Mr Tryan. She won't feel it half so much if I tell her myself."
   "Won't you wait till your mother comes, or put it off till to-morrow?" said Mrs 
   Pettifer, alarmed. "You'll hardly be back in time for dinner, if you get talking 
   to Mrs Crewe. And you'll have to pass by your husband's, you know; and 
   yesterday, you were so afraid of seeing him."
   "O, Robert will be shut up at the office now, if he's not gone out of the town. 
   I must go?I feel I must be doing something for some one?not be a mere useless 
   log any longer. I've been reading about that wonderful Henry Martyn; he's just 
   like Mr Tryan?wearing himself out for other people, and I sit thinking of 
   nothing but myself. I must go. Good-by; I shall be back soon."
   She ran off before Mrs Pettifer could utter another word of dissuasion, leaving 
   the good woman in considerable anxiety lest this new impulse of Janet's should 
   frustrate all precautions to save her from a sudden shock.
   Janet, having paid her visit in Butcher Lane, turned again into Orchard Street 
   on her way to Mrs Crewe's, and was thinking, rather sadly, that her mother's 
   economical housekeeping would leave no abundant surplus to be sent to the hungry 
   Lakins, when she saw Mr Pilgrim in advance of her on the other side of the 
   street. He was walking at a rapid pace, and when he reached Dempster's door he 
   turned and entered without knocking.
   Janet was startled. Mr Pilgrim would never enter in that way unless there were 
   some one very ill in the house. It was her husband; she felt certain of it at 
   once. Something had happened to him. Without a moment's pause, she ran across 
   the street, opened the door and entered. There was no one in the passage. The 
   dining-room door was wide open?no one was there. Mr Pilgrim, then, was already 
   up-stairs. She rushed up at once to Dempster's room?her own room. The door was 
   open, and she paused in pale horror at the sight before her, which seemed to 
   stand out only with the more appalling distinctness because the noon-day light 
   was darkened to twilight in the chamber.
   Two strong nurses were using their utmost force to hold Dempster in bed, while 
   the medical assistant was applying a sponge to his head, and Mr Pilgrim was busy 
   adjusting some apparatus in the background. Dempster's face was purple and 
   swollen, his eyes dilated, and fixed with a look of dire terror on something he 
   seemed to see approaching him from the iron closet. He trembled violently, and 
   struggled as if to jump out of bed.
   "Let me go, let me go," he said in a loud, hoarse whisper; "she's coming ... 
   she's cold ... she's dead ... she'll strangle me with her black hair. Ah!" he 
   shrieked aloud, "her hair is all serpents ... they're black serpents ... they 
   hiss ... they hiss ... let me go ... let me go ... she wants to drag me with her 
   cold arms ... her arms are serpents ...  
					     					 			they are great white serpents ... 
   they'll twine round me ... she wants to drag me into the cold water ... her 
   bosom is cold ... it is black ... it is all serpents. ..."
   "No, Robert," Janet cried, in tones of yearning pity, rushing to the side of the 
   bed, and stretching out her arms towards him, "no, here is Janet. She is not 
   dead?she forgives you."
   Dempster's maddened senses seemed to receive some new impression from her 
   appearance. The terror gave way to range.
   "Ha! you sneaking hypocrite!" he burst out in a grating voice, "you threaten me 
   ... you mean to have your revenge on me, do you? Do your worst! I've got the law 
   on my side ... I know the law ... I'll hunt you down like a hare ... prove it 
   ... prove that I was tampered with ... prove that I took the money ... damned 
   psalm-singing maggots! I'll make a fire under you, and smoke off the whole pack 
   of you ... I'll sweep you up ... I'll grind you to powder ... small powder ... 
   (here his voice dropt to a low tone of shuddering disgust) ... powder on the 
   bed-clothes ... running about ... black lice ... they are coming in swarms ... 
   Janet! come and take them away ... curse you! why don't you come? Janet!"
   Poor Janet was kneeling by the bed with her face buried in her hands. She almost 
   wished her worst moment back again rather than this. It seemed as if her husband 
   was already imprisoned in misery, and she could not reach him?his ear deaf for 
   ever to the sounds of love and forgiveness. His sins had made a hard crust round 
   his soul; her pitying voice could not pierce it.
   "Not there, isn't she?" he went on in a defiant tone. "Why do you ask me where 
   she is? I'll have every drop of yellow blood out of your veins if you come 
   questioning me. Your blood is yellow ... in your purse ... running out of your 
   purse ... What! you're changing it into toads, are you? They're crawling ... 
   they're flying ... they're flying about my head ... the toads are flying about. 
   Ostler! ostler! bring out my gig ... bring it out, you lazy beast ... ha! you'll 
   follow me, will you? ... you'll fly about my head ... you've got fiery tongues 
   ... Ostler! curse you! why don't you come? Janet! come and take the toads away 
   ... Janet!"
   This last time he uttered her name with such a shriek of terror, that Janet 
   involuntarily started up from her knees, and stood as if petrified by the 
   horrible vibration. Dempster stared wildly in silence for some moments; then he 
   spoke again in a hoarse whisper:?
   "Dead ... is she dead? She did it, then. She buried herself in the iron chest 
   ... she left her clothes out, though ... she isn't dead ... why do you pretend 
   she's dead? ... she's coming ... she's coming out of the iron closet ... there 
   are the black serpents ... stop her ... let me go ... stop her ... she wants to 
   drag me away into the cold black water ... her bosom is black ... it is all 
   serpents ... they are getting longer ... the great white serpents are getting 
   longer. ..."
   Here Mr Pilgrim came forward with the apparatus to bind him, but Dempster's 
   struggles became more and more violent. "Ostler! ostler!" he shouted, "bring out 
   the gig ... give me the whip!"?and bursting loose from the strong hands that 
   held him, he began to flog the bed-clothes furiously with his right arm.
   "Get along, you lame brute!?sc?sc?sc! that's it! there you go! They think 
   they've outwitted me, do they? The sneaking idiots! I'll be up with them 
   by-and-by. I'll make them say the Lord's Prayer backwards ... I'll pepper them 
   so that the devil shall eat them raw ... sc?sc ?sc?we shall see who'll be the 
   winner yet ... get along, you damned limping beast ... I'll lay your back open 
   ... I'll. ..."
   He raised himself with a stronger effort than ever to flog the bed-clothes, and 
   fell back in convulsions. Janet gave a scream, and sank on her knees again. She 
   thought he was dead.
   As soon as Mr. Pilgrim was able to give her a moment's attention, he came to 
   her, and, taking her by the arm, attempted to draw her gently out of the room.